10 November 2010

i don't know what inspires you i don't know who inspires you i don't know why you continue to get up in the morning i don't know why you do what you do i don't know why i didn't die before i turned 30 i should have that was the direction i was heading fast furious

i don't know and you don't either. you can't because it's not ours to know maybe we can guess but it really doesn't fucking matter because all you have is now. and what is your now? is life happening to you or are you in it?

you might be wondering, what is my fucking point here? I better make it soon because you were just demolished by service and your kitchen was too damn hot tonight and the dishwasher broke in the middle of service and the most expensive protein in the walk in went off and the cream delivery never came in and no one noticed and you're starting with a longer 86 list tomorrow than your prep list and and and and.

i don't know what inspires you. but i hope you know. at least some of the time because it's so important to know why we do what we do but I'm not talking about some intellectual bullshit that's not what you're going to be able to lean into when you're so tired you can't remember how you got home even though you aren't drunk or high and perhaps haven't been for some time. a lot of time, even.

i hope you know what inspires, what motivates you, to go on because you are going to fucking need it. need it like a vein needs to be tied. need it like a baby needs to be fed need it like a dog needs direction need. i kid you not, yo. because when you get home and the voices start you will need to know why because when your family or your friends or your partner or your community call and call out your name and call you out you are going to need to know

why

even if it makes no fucking sense even if it seems absurd even if it's absolutely crazy.

it's ok to love it and be passionate but fire burns bright and it burns out and is indiscriminate in who it burns along the way.

i wish you a long, slow journey. i wish you an intentional journey. i wish for you the strength it takes to make an unapology to be the kind of selfish that not all the bad kind. i wish for you humility. i wish for you a mentor, a teacher. i wish for you to uncover learning and epiphanies and loyalties where you least fucking expect it.

this profession takes heart.

serious.

so, i don't know what inspires you i don't know who inspires you i don't know why you continue to get up in the morning i don't know why you do what you do

but i hope you take some time to think about it

because you will be tested your heart and your body and your psyche and your original book and your mind and your goals and your ego will be tested and you will be slammed up against a wall over and over and over and over and you will be challenged to assess and reassess and i wish for you

clarity.

i wish for you at least one person in your life who you know loves you no matter what mistakes you make and that you trust that person enough to listen to everything they have to say even if you're so uncomfortable that you want to zip off your skin and run away forever because you're going to need people to lean into when you barely know yourself anymore. you're going to need to be reminded why.

06 July 2010

you think you know a place. it's because you do. you know a place so well it hurts. you think you remember. you remember everything, in fact. you remember what never be spoken again. you remember what would never be believed, now. you remember. you remember her. you remember being small. you remember being hungry. you remember every apartment, ever park, every school, every block, every friend, every everything. you think you know a place.

just because you know a place. does not mean you can know a place forever. places change. places die. places transform. places grow old with you. and the same place, looks young to someone
else.

you think you know a place. and then you go away. for a long time. you visit. when you can afford to. when you cannot afford to. and subtly, you see the changes in your place. years go by. you live in a half dozen places. you try and call each of them home.

but you know where you're from. you know who made you. you know what made you. you can never forget. even when you drink even when you cut even when you hide even when you run even when you drown even when you love

you think you know a place.

it's because you do.

and now. now is decades later. now she's gone. but you see her everywhere. most of all, she resides in you.

and now. the place is yours again. and so you walk. and walk. and walk.

you think you know a place. but it never hurts to re-introduce. to explore.to make lists. to go back. to show the city that's yours, that's home, that's complicated

to someone else. to yourself. you take yourself on dates. notice. stare. look up!

this place you know? this place you have known forever? this place that has made you. fought you. scarred you. challenged you. held you close. never let go. never meant to--- this place that you have always loved? this place you have always feared? this place you have always tasted. even when you called elsewhere home.

this place is meant to be shared.

you think you know a place. because you do. because you can. because you want.{you want so hard.}

26 March 2010

Grand Central Station. Iconic. Marble. Vibrating today with bagpipes and straight backs and a history forgotten. There are tears at the edges of my eyes i did not put there. I am grateful to be on a train today. Grateful to have heard the music, the complicated instrument.

`

At the edge of Williamsburg, where development meets empty and water. The city always looks the flattest flat from this angle. Sunny out, wet underfoot. Looking for perspective. And answers that will never arrive.

27 November 2009

The High Line is a park, is nerdy, is hip, is a railroad bed, is a new perspective of lower Manhattan, and the Hudson River too, is art, is life, is the sky above and the pavement below, all a bustle, is quiet, is stone, is plants, is birds and crickets too, is grasses, is pebbles, is design, is random, is history, is New York City, is a gallery, is like nothing I have ever seen before, is radical, is majestic, is the work of thousands of regular people, and special ones too, is open to the public, is a once-in-a-generation piece, as my friend Maury Rubin said recently.

If you live in NY or anywhere near NYC and you have not been to the High Line yet, you have no excuse worth breathing life into. Just go. And if you have New York City on your future plans, fit this beautiful space in.

If you're so jaded to think you've seen and done it all already, go somewhere else and leave those of us crushed out on the High Line alone to enjoy it with each other.

The High Line is my new favorite person, place & thing. I go in the rain and sun and in cool and on warmer days.

I went last week and took too many photos. It was rainy, very cold, and almost completely empty.

There are four sets on flickr that, especially if you go in order, will give you a very close idea of what it feels like to look ahead, side-to-side and all around the High Line...

22 October 2009

place i call home someone in california i've never metperson whose words stay with me, tucked safe, all day. following me like faeries, inquisitive, flirtatious, firey, expansive, temptive. i have always had a crush on you, red headed girl city i used to live in and live in again but you're a different city now red bicycle fellow who knows and has always known and may always know but who i'll never kiss farmer and keeper of land and dogs and swimming hole i know as well as my body Yorkshire girl collecting evidence, wearing pink shoes and being a fierce friend for 20 years this october co-pastry chef one and also two treehouse i left behind succulents family i've come to know who speak a hundred languages and live where the Eurostar takes a turn i have a crush on you s.s. you know who you are. you have a different name and so do i. you write long letters and aren't afraid of my words. i have a crush on you chocolatey spicy deep taste of freshly roasted ground and espresso'd and hot milked coffee Bonsoy soy milk pastry chef camaraderie Mentoring inspiring Neal's Yard Paddy & Rob whom i've never met but whose voices i drink once a week i have a crush on you girl with music at her fingertips and an Unlikely name married bois and that one from Canada who makes me blush when we play Bridge and you silver haired LA boyfox who conjured and pulled me here, upon his lifeboat, and fed me delicious cakes and could see my path even when i can't because my eyes are muddy azo. always i will love you. always i will be seen by you. always i will believe you'll come back down to earth cb. you are big and bigger and also i remember when your father threw the salad out the window. i will visit that bench in central park and remember our first kiss. i have a crush on you number four because you're orange and, well... so there. bw. because i will never be able to tell you. your brother is a close second because he's so much you, and yet completely opposite. yes, i know you think it's silly but i have a crush on you aj and your pink tie and practical nature and mostly i love that you give gm what he never would have taken from anyone else. not even me. i have big long-standing crushes on you euro boys in shepherd's bush who have made me rabbit stew and the best aubergine i have ever had. i love your open open heartsi have a crush on you hp because you have allowed me to reach in and pull out gently what was there always. rgl. you are brave in ways you may never realize. db, of course. aw who used to be ab with the longest double word score name. you have known me since before i could look back at the person in the mirrori have a crush on you ok. your grace stunned me when i walked into your kitchen. i will never be the chef i was before i met you. i know something else now because of you. i know another side of integrity and sharing. and no matter how scared the people i work with are in my future, i will remember how you shared and opened all your doors to me. even though you knew very well what i was doing there. and you mr x. thank you for being my ally and for teaching me about why Hobarts are the best stand mixers in the world.i have a crush on you dl from Israel with your scratchy tough exterior and bold tone. you're straight and you'll never see my eyes but i see you. and felt honoured to be on your team.i have a crush on you ah and tmp because you have years yet to know your power behind the stove. i hope i get to see you tear that cocoon apart and stand as tall as your dna made you.i have a crush on you too d. spratt and not just for your surname! you knew my name and said it aloud. you saw me and placed me there, even though you don't know it. i have a crush on you: my Bridge game. because i get to conjure everything my mother taught me, but have the time to learn now. roy. your camp is infectious. your love of baking is physical, literal, body. it is not about fame but about the alchemy of butter meeting flour and marrying inexplicably, tenderly. your humour is silly but when it comes to the kitchen you swim seamlessly with moving tide and undertow alike. i have a crush on you new york city, to whom i am about to return. to whom i am indebted to for pages and libraries of adventures, original crushes, heartbreaks, delicious tastes and bitter grief. i might even have a crush on you u n c e r t a i n t y because you continue to teach me to put one foot in front of the other even though the horizon is obscured, let alone any forest. i have a crush on you life. even though i never thought i'd say that. you give unrelentlessly, everything. and i have a choice to pick it up, fold it carefully, and hold it close if i so choose. i have a crush on you heart. because you remind me i am who i have always been and no amount of hardening will make you wooden. will stop you from beating and having crushes on you.